We've Got A Situation
by AwesomeAuror
Summary: Everyone knows that Ella loves her bedtime stories. But what happens when she asks a certain Peter Bishop?
1. Part One

**We've Got A Situation**

Summary: Everyone knows that Ella loves her bedtime stories. But what happens when she asks a certain Peter Bishop?

Disclaimer: Fringe doesn't belong to me. You think it does? You and I can both dream on.

* * *

"Olivia?" Peter turned toward his companion in the passenger seat. She had insisted on driving (of course), but easily gave in to Peter's pleading. What could she really do anyway? It _was_ his and Walter's car.

It didn't matter anyway. Olivia was fast asleep.

Her head rested against window and her long blonde hair previously tucked behind her ear slid forward to cover her cheek. Peter fought hard not to smile… and failed miserably.

He turned his grinning face back to the road, letting his thoughts wander freely. It had simply had been another day in the lab, researching and pouring over paperwork. Walter had asked for "those lollipops with chewing gum inside" on several occasions. Astrid spent most of the day good-naturedly looking for something Walter claimed would help solve their latest case (three headed dogs found in an abandoned building in Danvers), only for him to remember reading it in a book. Olivia suggested they go to Hades. Peter suggested they watch the first _Harry Potter_. Just another day in the lab.

Peter pulled the car to the curb in front of the Dunham residence, letting the engine idle. He reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, but pulled back. _Why should _I _wake her? She hasn't slept in weeks; even Walter's been noticing her raccoon-esque appearance. _But they couldn't sit in the car all night. Someone was bound to call the cops. Not that _that _would be a big deal. He could imagine the look on whoever they sent when they found an FBI agent and FBI consultant.

"Olivia?" he whispered, secretly hoping she wouldn't wake. "We're, uh, you're home."

No response.

"Do you seriously want me to carry you upstairs? This is probably all part of your secret plot to land me in the hospital," Peter smiled.

No response.

"You asked for it." Peter unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching over to undo Olivia's. His hand brushed against her thigh, his eyes shot to her face to see if she had noticed.

No response.

Peter fumbled with the door handle, annoyed when it stuck. _Why did Walter insist on keeping the same old car? Broyles had even offered to get us one. One from this decade. _With a swift and mostly silent kick, it slid open, allowing the cold Boston air to fill the car's interior. He pulled his coat tighter around his torso and watched his breath turn to vapor. _She's going to freeze. I hope she still keeps that spare key in the same place. _Peter pulled open the passenger door (noting it was much easier), stealing a peek at her serene face. He slid a hand under her legs, the other behind her back.

Still no response.

_For someone who lives off alcohol and pancakes with Ella, she's heavy! _Peter staggered under her weight, somehow managing to lock the car (with his elbow) and close her door (with his back). He clumsily got the front door open and nearly groaned with the strain of bring her up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. _You owe me, Olivia Dunham. Big time. Baby-sitting Walter for a week should do it. He loves waking up at three in the morning and rambling about the house. Don't let him eat Necco wafers for breakfast; he'll be crazy, even crazier I should say, all day. _Peter accidently hit her door with his foot, and to his surprise, it opened.

A frazzled looking young woman greeted him. Auburn hair was pulled in a messy bun; a cell phone was opened in her right hand. "Is she okay?" the stranger squeaked, looking at Olivia in Peter's arms with fear.

"Shh! Yeah, she's fine," Peter whispered, brushing past her. "Who are you?"

The girl followed Peter closely, nearly stepping on his heels, as he carried Olivia to her bedroom. Spying Ella nestled under the blankets, he smiled. _Ella's looking more like Rachel every day. Probably still as outspoken and bold as Olivia though. _

Peter gently lay Olivia on the other side of the bed, careful not to wake her. He slid her shoes off and pulled the spare quilt folded on the bed's edge over her, tucking it around her sleeping form. Without thinking, he brushed a blonde strand out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. He let his fingers linger on her cheek perhaps a second longer than required, momentarily unable to pull his eyes away from her familiar face. _If only I had a camera. If she could see how, how _beautiful _she was, maybe she'd stop running. Stop trying to fix what isn't her fault. Stop blaming herself for everything._

"Excuse me?" the young woman asked, snapping Peter out of his reverie. "What's going on? I mean, I expected Olivia to be back at eight, but she never called and I couldn't reach her –"

"Do you want to wake them up?" Peter frowned, silently slipping out of the bedroom. "And the twenty questions, it can stop now. Where's Rachel?"

"She had to go to Chicago, something with the divorce I think, poor thing –"

"You're the baby-sitter?" Peter cut her off.

"Yes, I'm Charlotte. I live downstairs and Olivia called me earlier asking if –"

"What do I owe you?" Peter sighed, pulling out his wallet. Anything to shut her up.

"What?" Charlotte asked, her bright green eyes clouded with confusion.

"Did Olivia already pay you? Or do I need to? And don't dare lie to me, I work with the FBI," Peter answered, loving that he could pull the I'm-with-the-government-not-running-from-it warning.

"She was going to pay me when she came home; I charge ten dollars an hour –"

"Ten dollars? You've got to be kidding me. I'll give you eight." Peter retorted.

"You were late; I was supposed to leave at eight. I should get extra for staying later –"

"Fine," Peter huffed, handing her three twenties. "You're not getting anything more, so don't complain. Just, just go home."

"I'm not sitting again, just wait till I tell Olivia her boyfriend –"

"Goodnight, Charlotte," Peter said, closing the door on the girl's face.

He leaned against the doorframe, closing his eyes. How in the name of alternate universes did he get himself into these situations? Baby-sitting mentally unstable scientists (who happened to be his father), working to solve cases that shouldn't even exist, possibly falling for a certain federal agent…

"Uncle Peter?" a small voice asked.

Great. Ella was awake.


	2. Part Two

**We've Got A Situation (Part Two)**

**Disclaimer:** Do I own Fringe? No. Do I want to? Sure! _*pulls out pen* _Where do I sign?

**Summary: **Because real life is never fun enough, it's superhero time.

**A/N: **I'm not entirely sure where this takes place, but for argument's sake, I'm going to say post "Olivia. In the lab. With the revolver." (2.17) but pre "The Man from the Other Side" (2.19). It's not relevant, so don't worry about it.

And to make this even longer, thanks for all the lovely reviews! You guys make me smile.

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Peter sighed, leaving his post at the door to see how in the name of all that's weird Ella was awake. He thought they had whispered, but maybe in his hurry to get the girl out and to return home before Walter could burn the house down trying to bake carrot cake his voice wasn't nearly as quiet as he had hoped.

Peter leaned against the wall, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he surveyed the scene in front of him. "What are you doing up?" he asked the half-asleep seven-year-old.

"I recognized your voice," she said, sitting up in bed. A slightly devilish gleam came over her eyes and with a smile she asked, "Will you tell me a story, Uncle Peter? But it has to be happy. My mom says no scary stories. Also no sugar after four o'clock."

Really, how did he get himself into situations like this? Try to be a gentleman and offer Olivia a ride home… end up arguing with a teenage girl who needs to learn how to take a hint. Now he's playing story teller to a girl who should have been in bed four hours previously. Not that he minds. Ella's adorable and smart and when she knows what she wants, she goes after it. But she also knew when to back off and take "no" for an answer (Unlike some people…). She was a lot like Olivia actually. Sometimes Peter wondered if Ella was really her daughter, seeing as Olivia was a better parent by a landslide. And whenever Ella wanted or needed something, she usually went to Olivia first. Rachel was nice and all, but she didn't know that much about parenthood. Not that Peter could claim expertise in that area, but…

"Sure," he says, watching her face light up. "A short one, okay? I've got to get home to Uncle Walter…"

"Thanks!"

"Shh!" Peter chastised. That was becoming his motto, wasn't it? "Let's not wake Livia."

"Sorry," Ella whispered, looking slightly abashed.

Peter couldn't help grinning - who couldn't love the kid? - and moved so he was standing beside the bed. He knew he couldn't get her out of it (she'd never get back in) but he felt awkward standing while she sat and somehow Olivia mercifully slept on. Peter did not want to hunt down a chair and bring it in (call him lazy, but he was not entirely comfortable going through Olivia's apartment) and he felt it would be even more awkward and uncomfortable to be in the same bed as Olivia… and Ella, of course.

Ella saved Peter from coming to a decision by taking his large hand in her small one and giving it a tug. "You can't tell stories standing up, Uncle Peter," Ella scolded, exasperated. "There's lots of room for Aunt Liv, me and you." She pulled his hand with her as she moved closer to the unmoving Olivia.

As stubborn as Olivia she was, Peter gave in. He gingerly sat on the edge, leaning against the headboard. _It's just one story. You can handle it. You're playing baby-sitter._ To his surprise, Ella snuggled close to his side and looked up at him expectantly. _Or father. _

"You want me to start?" she asked. Not waiting for a response, "Once upon a time," she continued.

Reflecting on how long it had been since Peter had heard those words, he repeated, "Once upon a time, there was a city."

"There are cities everywhere!" Ella exclaimed.

"Shh! And this wasn't just any city. It was…" Peter was at a loss of words. It had been years since he told a story; actually, he couldn't remember ever telling a story. Walter certainly never told him any, and Elizabeth's were just blurry memories. What did kids like these days?

"Was it a city in the future?"

"Sure," he grasped at the easy choice Ella provided. "That's exactly what it was. A futuristic city where monsters and demons were as common as cars and buildings."

"This isn't gonna be a scary story is it?" Ella interrupted. "Cause my mom says –"

"Ella," Peter chided gently. "Do you want me to tell you a story? Or are you going to keep interrupting?"

Ella mimed pulling a zipper over her mouth.

"There were monsters and demons, yes, but this city had something others did not."

Peter knew Ella was dying to ask a question, and he admired her dedication in refraining from doing so.

"They had protectors. People with… special powers," Peter knew where this was going. He risked a glance over Ella's head at Olivia, making sure she wasn't awake. "They were hired by the city's government to save the people from the monsters."

"So they were superheroes?" Ella blurted out. So much for her staying quiet.

Peter ruffled her brown hair, so different from Rachel's. "Exactly. They could do things that no one else could and the things that 'normal' people could do, these superheroes did even better."

"But one day, bad things started happening to the superheroes. They were being targeted by a major corporation called Considerable Force."

Ella giggled. "That sounds funny."

"It wasn't," Peter replied seriously. "Considerable Force was immensely powerful, and they knew everything about the superheroes. Why? Because they created them."

"Considerable Force knew that the city was going to be in danger soon, so they made these 'super humans' to be the city's protectors. But what they didn't know was how the protectors, or superheroes as you call them, would cause the city's destruction."

"Each superhero had a special power – there was Lane who could control emotions. Green who could argue so well that her opponents forgot what they were arguing about in the first place. Clark, Lewis and Pratt played with fire. Heath transferred energy. And the most powerful superhero of all: Dunhamnator. Whatever she put her mind to, it came true."

"Dunhamnator?" Ella laughed. "Like Aunt Liv?"

"Sort of. Dunhamnator was the strongest of all the other superheroes even if she didn't have a 'super power' like the rest. She was brave and selfless, and whenever a monster attacked, she was always there first."

"Why?"

"Ella," Peter sighed. "I'll tell you; you're just going to have to trust me."

"I do trust you, Uncle Peter." Ella smiled, laying her head on his arm. "I just wanna know what happens next."

"You will. I promise. Do you know what will make the story even better?" he asked, inspiration hitting him.

"What?"

"If you close your eyes. This way you can imagine it in your head."

"Okay," she sighed, letting her eyelids drift shut.

_She'll be out in ten minutes, tops, _Peter thought to himself. Home to Walter, home to his familiar bed…

"One day, Dunhamnator was called into action. A new monster had come into the south side of the city, and she had to fight it."

"But the monster was strong; stronger than she was. But Dunhamnator was brave and fought valiantly."

"What's valiant mean?" Ella asked, her voice soft.

"Valiant means heroic, brave. Just like you," he smiled, wrapping an arm around her tiny body. _And Olivia._

"Even though Dunhamnator was the strongest of all the superheroes, she knew she couldn't win by herself. So she called in her team of the other protectors, and they fought the monster together."

"Lane made it feel sleepy and then Lewis, Clark and Pratt bur-" Peter caught himself. "Finished it off. Together, they were strong."

"But I thought Dunhamnator was strong." Ella asked, her voice even softer.

"She _was_ strong, but sometimes strength isn't enough. You have to rely on others to help you out in tough situations. You can't go through life alone."

"That's why you've got your mom and Livia."

_Story telling isn't so bad_, he thought. Just think of something random, and give it a little moral at the end like those Aesop's Fables Peter recalled reading in school.

"Who do you have, Uncle Peh..." Ella trailed off.

"I have you," he said knowing she probably couldn't hear him. "I have Walter. And Astrid."

Peter looked over at Olivia. Her face was the most peaceful he had seen it in a long time, all the worry lines had completely disappeared. Her blonde hair spread across the pillow like a box of spaghetti spilled across the kitchen floor. _Now I'm starting to think like Walter. Comparing hair to food…_

"And Olivia."

Peter cleared his throat, trying to get his head back in the story. It suddenly did not matter that Ella was asleep; he wanted to finish it himself. Peter had to know how the situation would end. "So after the fight with the monster, Dunhamnator no longer went into battle alone. She brought her friends with her. But then something strange happened: Considerable Force started targeting the superheroes. They were afraid of all the power the protectors had, and wanted to get rid of them. Considerable Force thought that they could create machines to destroy the monsters instead."

"Dunhamnator and the remaining superheroes didn't like this. They enjoyed their job and wanted to keep protecting people. That was what they were made for."

"Dunhamnator did everything she could to save her friends. Some of them lasted longer than others, but one by one, they all fell. The city was in chaos because without the superheroes, the monsters got in much easier. Soon innocent people began disappearing, never to be seen again."

"But Dunhamnator was determined and wanted to save the city. She gathered a group of her friends who had not a single special power to their names and together, they rid the city of monsters as best as they could."

"I know this is where you'd say 'happy ever after'," Peter whispered, looking down at the sleeping girl pressed against his side. "But sometimes you don't get a happy ever after. Sometimes the happiest part is when your with the people you love best. When you're doing the right thing. If there is anything in the world I can teach you, Ella, it's that sometimes not all situations are bad ones. And you can take the bad ones and make them worthwhile."

Peter watched her sleep a few moments more and then he let his gaze wonder over to Olivia. _This is what home feels like_, he smiled. Having someone to tell stories to, someone who would always have your back, someone to laugh and joke with, someone who didn't mind taking care of others, someone who could hold their liquor. The comfortable feeling you felt as long as they were with you. Olivia. Walter. Astrid. Ella.

He let his eyes drift shut. _Only for a moment_, Peter thought. _Then I'll…_

_

* * *

_

Hope you enjoyed it! Part three is coming as soon as I finish it. Good plan, right?

I just wanted to add another disclaimer: Dunhamnator is not mine. Olivia's superhero name was created by the awesome people at Fringe Bloggers. They're cool. I'd check them out if you haven't already.

Feel free to click the little button at the end of this. Yeah, you know the one. Constructive criticism is always welcome, and long rants about how OOC the characters are or how my writing sucks could be helpful. Whatever you chose to do. Or not do.

Until then, as Peter said, live long and prosper.


	3. Part Three

**We've Got A Situation (Part Three)**

**Disclaimer: **Something happened with the contract I signed (Apparently it needed to be done in front of three witnesses or something fancy like that), so Fringe still isn't mine. Darn.

**Summary: **Olivia awakes to something… surprising.

The final part is here guys! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. So without further ado: Part three.

* * *

Olivia sighed, stretching out her arms. She felt as if she had slept a great deal longer than usual, and was going to pay the price. _Coffee, _her half-asleep brain told itself. _I need coffee. _Olivia rolled over in defeat and opened her eyes.

_What the hell?_

What was Peter Bishop doing in her bed? And why was Ell – oh. Olivia felt the color rise in her cheeks. She had been too busy talking (Or perhaps a better term would be flirting? Not that Olivia or Peter would ever own up to it) with Peter the night before to realize what day it was. She vaguely remembered Rachel calling anxiously asking if Ella could stay the night while she went to Chicago to meet with her lawyer. _Some aunt I am, _Olivia groaned internally. I c_an't even remember when to be home. _

But that still did not explain why Peter was here. Or why he looked so good when he slept. Something about the way the light fell through the window and struck his brown hair, sending its shattered light into a billion shards that blanketed him and Ella. His face was smooth and shockingly innocent looking; all evidence of his sarcasm and sharp looks gone. Peter had an arm wrapped around Ella in an almost protective manner and her face was hidden against his chest. The pair never looked more like father and daughter than they did in that one moment before they awoke. Olivia could not help the small smile that crossed over her lips, causing her olive green eyes to spark.

Perhaps Charlotte had called him? Olivia recalled that Rachel mentioned getting the girl to watch Ella while Olivia was at work. It could not have been hard for the baby-sitter to get his number; Peter was third on her speed-dial, after all.

Plausible. But how did she get home and why was he still here? Not that she strongly objected – Olivia had no problem with letting Peter (or Astrid or even Walter) stay the night if need be. But not in her room and not in her bed.

_I should wake them up, _Olivia thought, looking over their sleeping forms at the clock. _It's already eight and Broyles is expecting us at half past nine for that report on the dogs. _She reached hand over to her slumbering niece and gently shook the girl into consciousness.

"Ella? Come on baby girl, it's time to get up."

"Whah?" Ella asked groggily, her eyelids fluttering open. " Ah… Aunt Liv?"

"Rise and shine! You want to make pancakes?" Olivia asked, struggling to keep the conversation as "normal" as possible.

"Yeah!" Ella grinned, sitting up and rubbing the residue of sleep from her eyes.

"And, Ella? Why…. Why is Peter here?" Olivia questioned in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

But at that moment, Peter decided to open his mouth. "Five more minutes, Walter," Peter groaned, burying his head into the pillow.

Ella put her hands over her mouth, stifling a laugh. She leaned close to her aunt and whispered, "Peter told me a story. It was about people who saved the world! But then I fell asleep. I don't remember the ending. But you were in it, Aunt Liv! I think." she added thoughtfully.

"Peter brought me home?" Olivia asked, surprisingly touched by this thoughtful gesture. She remembered him offering her a ride and getting into the car, but everything else was fuzzy. He could have just let her sleep there with a blanket thrown over her.

"Yeah, he carried you like you were a baby!" Ella laughed, evidently finding the image of her aunt as an infant very funny.

Olivia fought the smile, but lost. Again. They were both bad at that, were they not?

"Peter?" Olivia leaned over her niece and whispered in his ear, her lips coming dangerously close to his skin. "It's a bit after eight."

"Livia?" Peter bolted upright, causing their heads to clash. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry –"

Ella was rolling on the bed laughing hysterically between them.

Olivia just grinned at him, rubbing the side of her head with a hand. "I forgive you. But if I have a bruise, I'm pretty sure assault on a federal agent gets you jail time, Bishop."

Ella laughed even harder.

Peter shifted back with a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and looked between the sobering-up Ella and the lighthearted Olivia. "I fell asleep, didn't I?" he sighed, closing his eyes.

"Yes," Olivia answered honestly.

"I'm sorry; I was planning on just taking you in, but that girl, Carla or whatever her name was, was here and then Ella woke up, and –"

"Ella wants pancakes. How about we make them while she gets dressed and ready for school?" Olivia interrupted him, her eyes saying more than her words.

"You have to go to school?" Peter asked the girl, his bright eyes widening. "You didn't tell me that!"

Ella grinned. "You never asked, Uncle Peter."

Peter groaned, swinging his legs off the bed. "Pancakes it is," he looked up at Olivia who had gotten out of bed and was running her fingers through her long blonde hair in front of the mirror.

They watched Ella bound out of the bedroom and waited until she was out of earshot and rummaging through her overnight bag before either of them spoke.

"Livia," Peter started.

Olivia looked back at him, her eyes a bit distant.

"Trust me; this is just as awkward for you as it is for me. I should've left as soon as she fell asleep, no. I should have just tucked her in and said good –"

"Thank you."

"What?" Peter asked, startled.

"For bringing me home. Ella said you carried me in?"

"Yeah… wait. She was asleep when I came in. How would she know?"

"Ella's good at faking. She gets Rachel all the time. If she wants to be an actress, she's got enough drama going for her."

"She would be a good actress," he said fondly, looking out into the main room. When he turned back to her, his expression was serious. "I hope me sleeping here didn't mess anything up. I - you know how important you are to me. And I don't want you to think I was trying to hit on you or do anything to Ella - I love that kid. I would never want to do anything to hurt either of you. I… Can we just forget about it? Say it never happened?"

"Why?" Olivia smiled, the light in her eyes dancing mischievously. "Are you afraid?"

"Of what Walter will say? Absolutely. And you should be too. Guess how long it will take him to start asking when you're moving in and what we're going to name the baby."

"What baby?"

"Exactly," Peter sighed.

"Are the pancakes ready yet?" Ella's shrill voice interrupted their conversation.

"You're dressed already?" Peter called out. "Why don't I believe you?"

Ella laughed from the other room.

"I'll play with her if you make her breakfast," Peter offered, turning to Olivia who was buttoning up her suit jacket.

"That'd be great. Make sure she is wearing socks, okay? Apparently they were doing something in gym class and she got in trouble…." Olivia trailed off.

"Socks it is."

"And, Peter? What do you want in your pancakes?"

"Doesn't matter as long as they're whale-shaped," Peter grinned.

"You have to be kidding me," Olivia muttered in mock disappointment and stalked out of the bedroom.

Peter followed her out, pausing to look at a photograph that had been placed down on her dresser. He lifted it up, careful not to move anything else. _John Scott, _Peter grimaced darkly. _I guess she'll never really get over him. No matter how long it's been. _Peter threw the photo back down, not casting it a second glance.

Peter made sure Ella was wearing socks (pink ones to match her headband) and Ella showed him all the pictures of ponies she had colored within the last week. Peter took it in stride, feigning interest so well it seemed real and asking questions in a serious voice. Ella loved it.

Olivia prattled about the kitchen, moving things around and wishing she had cleaned up the day before. She made breakfast just the way Ella liked it – plain pancakes with butter and lots and lots of syrup – and even attempted Peter's whale-shaped ones, which turned into a total mess.

"Food's ready!" Olivia called, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. _Huh. This is what it's like to have a family, _she mused. She leaned back against the counter, listening to Ella's excited "Race you!" and the sound of two pairs of feet running into the tiny kitchen.

"You know you're not supposed to run in the house," Olivia scolded, looking firmly at the two.

"Uncle Peter started it," Ella explained, grabbing a stack of pancakes and smothering them in syrup.

"Sure he did," Olivia grinned, catching Peter's eye.

The conversation stayed at easy subject matter; nothing too serious or alarming. Olivia and Peter kept up the family façade and Ella loved it. Whenever the discussion reached a lull, Ella bombarded the pair with questions about anything from their work to the possibility of Rachel getting her a puppy.

If the Observer was observing them, they looked like a perfectly happy family. No superheroes trying to save the city, no dead guys popping out of corners, no monsters chasing them down, no major corporations whose motives were unclear. Just a normal Monday morning.

"C'mon, Livia," Peter said, placing the last wet dish on the rack. "Broyles is expecting us, at what? Nine? Nine-thirty?"

"Yeah," Olivia sighed, getting up from the table and grabbing her bag. Making sure Ella was preoccupied with other matters, she clipped her gun to her belt.

"We picking up Walter and Astrid, or did he want just us?"

"I think we'll do it. Astrid said she was going to visit her sister today and Walter…"

"He's probably overdosed on something ridiculous and is in the process of destroying the kitchen."

"When you put it like that, you make him sound crazy."

"Livia," Peter said exasperated. "He _is_ crazy."

With a shake of her head she called out, "Ella! We're leaving. And if you're not in the car in one minute –"

Ella was a fast runner.

They dropped Ella off at her school and Olivia promised to pick her up at three. _Hopefully she'll let me down easy when I have to break that one, _Olivia thought.

Peter and Olivia's meeting with Broyles went without a hitch, and he sent them away once he collected all of their reports, which he planned on passing on to Nina Sharp. See what she made of the mutations, seeing as they seemed to have Massive Dynamic written all over them.

The pair returned to the lab to find Walter sitting with his head under a commercial ketchup dispenser.

Some things never changed.

Before Peter could think of some sarcastic comment that would suffice the totally odd sight they walked into, Olivia's phone rang.

"Dunham, get the Bishops and bring them to Newbury Street, Boston. We've got a situation."

* * *

Hope you liked the odd ending. I've been debating over this for weeks, but I just went with it. Sick of all the rewriting.

It'd be awesome if you could leave a review saying what you hated, what you liked and where I totally went wrong. But, hey. I would say it's a free country, but I'm sure that a lot of you are from all over the world. So whatever you chose to do, have fun with it. And never take life (or this story) seriously. Because no one gets out alive anyway.

Until inspiration strikes with a new story, over and out.


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